Chapter 12: The Legend of the Pied Piper
I slumped down on the edge of the platform, next to the Door Controls, and prepared to hear the 'other shoe to drop'.
"OK, who or what is the 'Pied Piper'?" I asked wearily, although I was pretty sure that I wouldn't like the answer.
"But surely ..." Sarah-Jane started to say, but I interrupted "Just assume that I have just arrived on this planet, and just answer the question."
"Well, OK, but I never really paid attention, as it is, or rather I always thought that it was a myth, an urban legend, like the 'Puppet-man of Vault 77' and the "Pint-sized Slasher", a tall tale told by traders, and folk like Jericho and Billy Creel who have travelled the Wastelands; as way to get free drinks. I just thought it was a load of bunkum, as the stories have been around supposedly for years, decades, maybe even centuries, but the Raiders that I was brought in here by, said that it was true, and swore to my captors, that the Pied Piper had been seen again, announcing that 'There were some vacancies in the Vault' and that 'the Vault Door would be open for a brief period to allow entry, for anyone looking to escape the nuclear holocaust.', though as far as the Raiders were concerned this was a chance for some easy loot and slaves"
Sarah-Jane paused briefly, as she settled herself down comfortably on the floor, so I jumped in with "Any details about the Pied Piper itself? Like why is it called that?"
Sarah continued, after giving me a slightly annoyed look at my impatience "From people say, it looks like one of those 'Mr Gutsy' robots, which has collided with an Enclave's Eyebot. Some ancient lonesome Raider called 'Hopalong' who lived years ago, near here at a place called 'Kaelyn's Bed and Breakfast', he had called it 'The Pied Piper', and constantly warned everyone to stay away or the 'The Pied Piper will get you', but I don't know why he called it that"
I made an educated guess, and quickly told Sarah the story of the 'Pied Piper of Hamelin', and that based on that, I explained that it was very likely he had been the sole survivor of a gang, who had followed the Pied Piper into the Vault, but thanks to his implied disability that had given him his name, he had not been able to keep up, and so had failed to get into the Vault before it closed up, imprisoning his friends in a death-trap.
Sarah-Jane started to turn pale, as she began to realise the enormity of what I was implying. "Dear God! that means those files might be correct!"
"What files?" I interrupted
"Oh! Well, when I was given the job as Vault Doctor, my Pip-Boy was given a data download. Mostly personnel medical files, and BMD (Births/Marriages/Deaths) records; Nothing about the psycho-gas or anything" She quickly explained, as she saw my increasing interest and wanting to avoid raising my expectations too high.
"Anyway I have complete detailed medical records for an initial 106 people, excluding us, who must have been the original occupants of the Vault, as there are references to their Pip-Boys. But the BMD files, lists nearly 10,000 deaths, but only a handful of births. I just thought that it was some kind of data-logging error, or that the file had corrupted, especially as most of those who died were called 'John Doe' or 'Jane Doe' followed by a number, which didn't make sense, but now... it means that this place has been killing people non-stop for years."
"But, there is no way that many bodies lying around here!" I objected
"Maybe, but given enough time, Radroaches can dispose of just about anything, including bones" she countered
To try and partly distract her from the grisly subject, I asked "Has no-one ever tried to destroy the robot?"
"Not really, according to the stories any who try to harm the Pied Piper is cursed with madness and death, so everyone leaves it alone." She replied.
"More like, it is armed with a bottle of the psycho-gas" I responded.
Then reality of the situation came crashing back over me once more "Damn it!" I exclaimed in frustration.
"What?" Sarah-Jane asked startled, at my sudden vehemence.
"Oh," I explained "it just that it is one crisis after another. And none of the problems have been fully solved. We stabilised the power situation for the moment, but the Primary Power is still offline, because that level is full of gas, and the Secondary Reactor desperately needs some fresh nuclear fuel, as what we have won't last for very long. We have no food, and there some weird defence system on the Overseer Office; and now there is this 'Pied Piper' robot that needs stopping"
"Well, I do have some Good News and some Bad News" she responded, "The Good News is that Dr Jones had stockpiled some food supplies in his quarters. I guess with all the fighting and gas induced paranoia, everyone was. But anyway we do have enough food for about another week, so we have a little time to deal with that problem." She concluded with an encouraging smile.
"And the Bad News?" I asked warily
Her face took on a slightly grim expression "We need to do something about all the dead bodies that are lying about. You probably didn't notice, when we hurried here through the Atrium, but those bodies there are starting to smell pretty ripe, and there is a real risk of disease, unless we do something"
"Any suggestions?" I responded
"Yes, but I need you to confirm what I think that I have found" came the reply.
We both stood up, but before we headed back into the Vault, I insisted that we first tidied up the Vault Entrance area, in particular that all the parts from the Vault-Door control panel was put safely in a small crate in the corner of the room, so that we might have chance to complete the panel repairs, that had been started almost two centuries earlier.
As we passed through the Atrium, heading down to the Medi-Centre level, I realised that Sarah-Jane had a point, as the stench from bodies seemed even worse, than when we had passed through here earlier, and things could get even more serious, unless we acted quickly.
Once down in the corridor outside her quarters, Sarah-Jane pointed down to the far end of the corridor, where a store-room door stood slightly ajar, and there was a steady stream of fairly concentrated psycho-gas flowing out, though fortunately thanks to the now improved ventilation in this part of the Vault, the gas was being drawn down the stairs to the next level, and straight into an extraction vent.
"I was looking for cleaning supplies for the Medi-Centre" she explained, "But when I opened that door after forcing the lock, there was a loud bang, and the room started to fill with that gas. I managed to close the door most of the way, but I must have damaged door mechanism, as it won't close properly, as you can see. I have kept clear of it since then. But before I closed the door, I am pretty sure I saw box labelled as containing something for disposing of bodies."
"Okay well, we need to do something about that gas, before we do anything else" I replied, "Wait, here a moment". And then I hurried back up to the Atrium, and spent an unpleasant 15 minutes or so, rummaging among the decomposing bodies for Power Armour Helmet, that the Raider Hulk had discarded, when he did his impromptu striptease. I found it hanging off the edge of the over-head walkway; luckily it seemed none the worse for its brief flight.
The Helmet looked to be in fair shape, considering it was probably over 200 years old and fairly hard years at that. There were signs that it had been repaired and patched up several times over the years, but looking at the quality of the repairs, most of them had probably been done by trained armourers, either Brotherhood of Steel, or Outcast.
However since the armour had fallen into Raider hands, things had gone down-hill, and now most of the electronics were almost completely destroyed, but the part that interested me the most was intact: the air filter. With a bit of luck, it would be able to filter out the psycho-gas enough for me to be able to do something, although with helmet's air circulation fan defunct, I would have to rely on pure lung-power.
I quickly tried it on, but ripped it off even quicker. The Hulk must have had a terminal case of halitosis, or something. I would have to give it a good clean-out before I would be able to stand using it.
Fortunately Sarah-Jane had found plenty of cleaning supplies, and so this didn't take long to do.
Now we were ready, I got Sarah-Jane to withdraw up to the next level up, for safety's sake, and I put on the helmet, with it sealed up, I headed for the store-room door, with the smell of disinfectant filling my nose, and sounding like an asthmatic Darth Vader.
The door's controls were in a such terrible state, that my only conclusion was that it wasn't Sarah-Jane's efforts that prevented the door from closing, but rather the accumulation of damage from repeated attacks on it over the years, which seem to have included gun and laser-fire.
The door motor had burnt itself out trying to close the door, but there was just enough of a gap around the edge of the door, for me to get a screw-driver through, and onto the manual door release, disengaging the motor, so that I could then fully open the door easily, with the aid of a crow-bar.
I was greeted with a billow of near pure psycho-gas, there was so much gas in the air that my Pip-Boy's 'Low Oxygen Level' alarm bleeped momentarily, but now with the door fully opened the gas was free to flow and down to the lower Vault levels, where the air purification system could deal with it.
For the most part the helmet's filter seemed to be working, but I could feel the Red Madness stirring again in the back of brain, either some gas was managing to leak in, or possibly more worryingly I maybe absorbing it through the skin; Just in case, I withdrew temporarily to the other end of the corridor, until the worst of the gas had gone.
Once it had cleared somewhat, I took the chance and carefully entered the store-room. It contained a large portion of the Vault's dirty secret. There were at least 40 gas cylinders inside, most of which were still full of psycho gas, plus there were about 30 empty slots, which I assume must have held the cylinders that are currently deployed around the Vault.
As the air cleared of gas, I could now see the cause of the bang that Sarah-Jane heard, it was a Combat Shotgun booby-trap, which she must have triggered when she started to enter. It has missed, but whoever had rigged the trap, had played clever, by positioning it so that if it missed its target, it would hit some of the gas cylinders; So that if the pellets didn't get them, the gas would.
As I moved further into room, I discovered a second shotgun booby-trap, which I was able to disarm. At this rate, I should have a fairly respectable armoury if and when I leave the Vault, I thought, but while I was mentally patted myself on the back with that idea, I walked round the end of the row of gas cylinders, only to find myself literally staring straight down the barrel of a laser pistol; I was so close that my nose was touching the end of the muzzle.
I nearly died of fright on the spot, but as my eyes focused past the pistol, I realised that I had walked into an ambush nearly 200 years late.
The potential ambusher had wedged himself upright on a using a couple of sets of crutches, with his gun hand balanced on the edge of the cylinder rack. From his clothing and his Pip-Boy, it was clear that he had been one of the original residents.
I moved past the body, then carefully removed the crutches and laid his remains down on the ground. After which I went through his personal effects: his Pip-Boy's data files had been wiped by some security software command, however in his Vault-suit breast pocket, there was an old-fashioned notebook, the contents of which revealed that he had been one of the researchers assigned to the Vault, and who had probably been in the know regarding its secret.
Most of the writing was undecipherable due to a combination of appalling handwriting, and extensive use of code-worded jargon, but the last few entries had been written in the clear, basically as a 'Last Will and Testament'.
In short, Professor ******* (name unreadable), had been up in the Upper Atrium when it was attacked, but had escaped by jumping off the walkway, dropping down behind the rampaging mob, thus avoiding his escape being unobserved. This was kind of lucky on his part, as the fall had shattered his left ankle, leaving him a very slow moving target, so he had needed a lot of luck to evade the mob.
He had somehow managed to drag himself down here, and lock himself in, but as he noted, that he had practically no food or water, and definitely no medical supplies, he noted that his 'chances of survival were slim, but was prepared to go down fighting. Like a man, standing on his own two feet' Two hundred years later, I could at least testify that he did indeed succeed in doing that to a degree.
But back to the present-day, I quickly modified the room vents, so the remaining psycho-gas in the air could be cleared as quickly as possible. Then onto the whole reason for coming into this store-room, looking for the way of disposing of the various cadavers that lay about the Vault; on the shelving rack near the door was a large crate marked with label "War Department Property", and underneath was the Contents label "Bags – Body, for the disposable of. Contents: 100"
When I opened the crate, and took out one of the bags, I was able to confirm despite the confusing Military-Speak label, that these were indeed Body-Bags very similar to those seen on news footage of some natural disaster on television, or whatever they called them here.
There was one unexpected difference though; each bag had some kind of strange gas cylinder attached, with a button labelled 'Ignition'. An examination of the multi-lingual instructions and pictograms revealed that these bags had an interesting feature. The cylinder contained a quantity of Flamer Fuel, which once you sealed the body inside the bag, you released into the bag and then ignited, safely & cleanly incinerating the body, and reducing it bones and all, to an easy to dispose of fine ash. According to the instructions, you could use the bag three times, before it needed to be emptied, and the gas cylinder refilled; Very valuable find for us, but a grim confirmation that Vault-Tec fully intended to kill people.
I carried the crate up to where Sarah-Jane was sheltering, and from there we continued up to the Atrium, and commenced clearing the bodies: stripping anything of value from them, before placing them in the body-bags.
Sarah-Jane insisted that all the cremated remains should be placed into a storage drum, with all due reverence, with the stated intention scattering them later outside the Vault, as she felt that all who had died, would rest easier knowing that at least some part of them has escaped the Vault, to see the sky once more. I did not query that odd semi-religious logic, as somehow it felt strangely right to do this.
Once, we had cleared the Atrium itself, Sarah-Jane insisted that I leave her to carry on, while deal with the other remaining outstanding issues.
So, my next question, is what should I do next?